


Nana Gallagher Had An Affair

by Enochianess



Series: Dirtiest white boy in America [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Crimes & Criminals, Embarrassed Mickey, Episode Related, Grumpy Mickey, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Juvie, M/M, Mickey misses Ian too, Nana Gallagher Had An Affair, POV Mickey Milkovich, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Pining Ian, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1 Episode 10 - Mickey focused</p><p>"I- I miss you." Gallagher says the moment Mickey's concentration is back on him. And it's actually kind of cute, the way the kid's eyes dart down when he says it.</p><p>"You say that again, I'll rip your tongue out of your head." He replies, the words a natural defence.</p><p>But, of fucking course, Ian's face just splits into one of those stupid, crazy, impish grins he has when he's happy, a quiet chuckle falling from the tip of his tongue. Mickey stares at him for a second, his stomach flipping uncomfortably, and then turns away to try and hide the smile fighting its way onto his own face. Fucking Gallagher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nana Gallagher Had An Affair

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get enough of Mickey Milkovich and I don't think his side of the story was explored enough on the show, so I'm writing his story canonically episode by episode and adding and expanding upon the scenes as I see fit (And yes, this does include smut, because their kiss and sex scenes were virtually nonexistent). All the works will be named after the episodes in the show.
> 
> I'd really appreciate your feedback on this because I want to make sure I'm writing Mickey as accurately as possible. If this is going to be as good as I want it to be, I need to quite literally become him for a couple hours a day.
> 
> *Gives you the bird because we're in the shameless fandom and this is the best way of expressing my affection and love for you all*

_"Pull 'em up!" Attendant_ who-the-fuck-gives-a-shit?! _hollers._

 _Mickey bends over, his shoulders jostling the guys on either side of him, and grabs his pants' legs at the calf, yanking the material above his ankles. The attendant scans his eyes across the long line of them - boys of various ages,_ _heights, bulks and skin tones - and nods for them to stand upright again._

_"Shirts." He then orders._

_Mickey sighs, reaching down and pulling his white shirt over his waistline._

_"Shoes."_

_Mickey kicks them off obediently, picks them up. He holds them tops down, waits for the attendant's nod, and then the room echoes with the_ whack, whack,  _of the boys smacking their sneakers together. It always reminded him of his mom. How, when Mickey was little, she'd come in shuddering from the winter cold, toe off her boots, and then whack them together so the lumps of snow fell off on the porch. She'd kicked Mickey's ass when he'd copied her, not understanding that doing the same action inside the house was counterproductive. It made him sad to think about it. Especially when he was trapped in this fucking shit hole again. Especially when his mom was_ _probably dead in a ditch anyway._

_"First four, TV area." The attendant says._

_The juveniles from rooms 1, 2, 3 and 4 leave the line and sit down in front of the old box of a television, the brightly_ _coloured chairs a sharp contrast to the rest of the centre. Mickey couldn't fathom why they'd decided to make everything fucking beige. What sort of a colour was_ beige  _anyway?_ _And why was everything in fucking fours?_

 _Mickey sits down on a lime green chair and wrinkles his nose at the smell of the boy beside him. It's a different inmate than normal. The guy he usually sits next to, who sleeps in the room beside his, had gone full on whacko the day before and was locked up in Confinement. How fucking dumb did you have to be to start smacking your head on the wall, screaming about killing yourself? He was probably gonna be put in one of the Close Watch rooms for weeks, with no sheets and no bed frame. Mickey thought you'd have to be fucking desperate to try and kill yourself using a damn metal frame, but then again, not everyone here was used to dealing with this shit, not everyone here had grown up on the South Side with Terry as a fucking dad. He swore there was always someone losing their god damn mind in this place. Every week someone new was put in the Close Watch rooms. Every week he wondered if it was gonna be him. But no, he knew he was too strong for that, too resilient and already worn down. He supposes that's the one thing he has to thank his dad for. Life could beat him down again and again, but he'd still get up. A Milkovich would always get up._ _  
_

 

When Mickey was in Juvie, his family was allowed to visit him twice a week. Unsurprisingly, not one of them had shown up, not even fucking once. So, understandably, Mickey was confused as shit when the guard told him he had a visitor. 

It's annoying as fuck that he has to hobble into the visiting room and if it wasn't Gallagher, he wouldn't be degrading himself like that. Fuck, if anyone else saw him putting his weight on the metal crutches, shifting his body like a damn invalid, he would have killed them on principle. He couldn't take a hit to his reputation like that. No, Mickey Milkovich was supposed to get shot and then get straight back on his feet, ready to beat down anyone who looked at him wrong. If anyone else had visited, he would have refused to fucking see them. He knew it shouldn't be a big deal. He'd taken a bullet, but so had most people on the South Side. Except, he was shot by fucking _Kash._ It was humiliating to say the least. 

Mickey pointedly doesn't look at Ian until the phone is heavy in his hand, and even then, he finds it difficult to keep eye contact. He feels weirdly vulnerable, and maybe that's because this is more than even his blood had managed to do for him. Or, maybe it's the way Ian's looking at him like he's so damn happy to see him, and nobody else has ever done that either.

"Thanks for putting money in my commissary account. I was running low on smokes." He says, his eyes drifting to the wall beside the plexiglass window. It was hard for him, saying thank you. It was like admitting to his disadvantage. It was like confirming his need for someone else.

"Not me. Kash. I told him you might still press charges."

"Thanks." Mickey says again. 

He has to fight the grin pulling at his lips. And yeah, maybe it was a little easier to admit that time because, hell, he's suitably impressed by Gallagher's thought process here. He wonders briefly what else the kid could get outta towel-head. The pretense of avoiding a hefty fine and possible jail time was a damn good one, especially with a pussy like Kash.

"How long?" 

"I don't know. Supposed to be a year, right? Maybe only a couple months if I don't do anything stupid." 

And yeah- He was feeling fucking fine about it all until Ian was the one asking the question. He thinks, maybe, he's only just realised the implications of being locked up for a whole year. The implications being,  _he wasn't going to be able to touch Ian for a year._ Fuck, he wouldn't even be able to talk to the redhead. Strangely, he found the thought of that just as tough as the not fucking part. He has to look away again, over to one of the other inmates. He was so bad at this shit. He didn't know how to handle any of it; outwardly or inwardly.

"Like what?" Ian asks.

"Like stab that fat fuckin' Mick who keeps trying to steal my Jell-O!" He says, his voice rising so the prick on the other side of the room can hear him.

"Who? Me?" The fucker shouts back.

"Yeah!"

"Fuck you!"

"I- I miss you." Gallagher says the moment Mickey's concentration is back on him. And it's actually kind of cute, the way the kid's eyes dart down when he says it.

"You say that again, I'll rip your tongue out of your head." He replies, the words a natural defense.

But, of fucking course, Ian's face just splits into one of those stupid, crazy, impish grins he has when he's happy, a quiet chuckle falling from the tip of his tongue. Mickey stares at him for a second, his stomach flipping uncomfortably, and then turns away to try and hide the smile fighting its way onto his own face. _Fucking Gallagher._

He fixes his gaze back on the redhead, which is a huge fucking mistake because the kid has to go and ruin the whole thing by pressing his fingertips to the plexiglass.

"Take your hand off the glass." He orders, but he knows it comes out half-hearted.

He wants to lift his hand and press back.

He wants to touch Ian, wants to feel his warm skin against his own. 

He doesn't wanna wait a whole fucking year.

He's not sure he can hold out that long.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I do not take credit for the dialogue from the show; I have simply used it to aid my own story and exploration of Mickey.  
> The credit for those parts goes deservedly to the writers.
> 
> Feel free to contact me: http://enochianess.tumblr.com


End file.
